Chemo day - March 13/13 (Scott)

Its chemo day.....

As per usual I wake up to hugs from my caring kids. They love me and its easy for me to see. They are both very expressive with their feelings, something I am proud of them for.

As I sit at the computer I am looking out over our yard and into the trees. I see 2 rabbits, perhaps they are a mother and child because one is smaller, they run freely across the snow. They don't seem to have a problem in the world.

Sometimes I catch myself thinking that it would be nice to be a young child, free of so many worries. I know though that in the case of my own, they have been forced to grow up quickly, maybe far too quickly.

I wonder who I will see at chemo today, sometimes I bump into people I know or have seen several times at the clinic. I wonder how I will feel after. The first 2 rounds of this maintenance chemo went very well, but the 3rd was a challenge, mostly I think because I was trying to wean off of anti depressants at the same time. Will I simply feel tired, will the invasive chemicals affect my mood as they sometimes do? Usually after chemo I have a hard time thinking and my memory isn't so swell. Sometimes the latter is handy, cause my wife will ask me to do something and I just say I forgot what you said:):). Sorry babe.

While I am lost in my thoughts, my kids are bantering around in the background. They are supposed to be eating breakfast, but my son is enjoying teasing his sister about an apparent boyfriend. She is feisty and knows how to fight back. I neatly spread the newspaper out and she mischievously messes it all up on me. They will go spend sometime at their friend's houses today and are really looking forward to that.

It's 10:15am and time to go. As is our practise Eliz and I pray on our way to chemo, not because we our holier than thou, but because we need to request God's grace, mercy and strength. Its a wintery day with a gentle snowfall, but the roads are good.

On arrival I do the usual check in, hand the lady my health card and she gives me my chemo and allergy bracelets. Now I am cool, I have bracelets.

Upstairs we go to wait for a nurse to call us into the chemo suit. I don't know why they call it that, but it's nicer than some things they could call it. Today it is busy, there is room for 30 plus and it is full, full of people of all ages, some who look like they are coming from and going to an executive meeting, others in lounge wear like me, some old, some young (20ish) and some very frail. I think when I got cancer I pictured every one looking like my dad did, quite frail at times, but like me, there are many others here that you would never know by there physical appearance that they have cancer. It's simply a dark emotional cloud that they carry with them each day, a cloud that you don't know when it will break open and rain (worsen). Perhaps like me they too experience other emotional and thought challenges that people don't see, like memory loss, anxiety, depression, challenges with decision making and just the sheer uncertainty of it all. Perhaps like me they carried emotional baggage into their cancer experience, making it even harder.

Today I am stuck in the far corner in a bed, I prefer a chair, but today I get a bed. A nice male nurse takes my vitals which are good, and another nice nurse puts the IV in. A band is here today, they are not good at all but good for them to do this. Maybe it's good I am in the back corner. A helper comes by offering drink and I respond with my usual request for a beer or a hard drink. She gets my humour and says they serve those drinks after noon when her shift ends. The poison (chemo) continues to drip in my arm, my beautiful wife is yammering a way, but I am having trouble following her. The pre chemo drugs and chemo make me drowsy.

Its lunch time now in chemoville. Feels like we are having a picnic in a park except that the food spread out on a blanket is the cover of an uncomfortable hospital bed.
Its 12:30 and the joint is still quite full. Some people are reading, others are sleeping and the odd one is madly 2 thumb typing on there phone (me). It's 1:25 now, the chemo drip is done, they have taken my vitals again which are good. It's time to go. I feel a little wobbly on my feet but am ok. Goodbye till June chemo suit.

We stop at Gospel Lighthouse on the way home and umbeknownst to us God has placed friends of ours there to encourage us. His timing is bang on. I can feel that the chemo is taking affect. I feel as though I have to think through a very thick fog. How long will it last, we will see, probably into next wk but that's still far, far better than what it was during the initial chemo last winter.

............As I continue to work on myself, while at times I fought it, I now realize that God is in control and that even when I take steps that are seemingly sideways or backwards, he has my best interests in mind. For example, while my current work does not have me working with people much and seems like a step back, I realize now that with my emotions being raw at times, this is better suited for me now. Emotions are easily hidden, but I am keenly aware when mine are skewed. I just need to respond better to what they are telling me. We go through life but sometimes we don't realize its impact. We cope until we need help. That's me.